


Just Chrollo

by ninjaNinj



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Also inspired by Westworld, Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Chrollo is a literal computer, I don't know why that's just how he turned out, Kurapika is kind of chill at first, Multi, Robots, eventual dystopia, he'll get angry later, inspired by the movie Her, lots of discussions about the ethics of AI, operating systems, philosophical, until he's not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninjaNinj/pseuds/ninjaNinj
Summary: Quad Com's new artificially intelligent Operating System recently hit the market.  When Kurapika's computer crashes he has to buy a new one, with a personality of its own.





	Just Chrollo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika has girl troubles and computer troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I had a lot of fun with this fic so I hope you enjoy the first chapter! It's based off of both the movie Her and the HBO show Westworld. The Westworld stuff will come later.  
> 

There’s a loud crash outside Kurapika’s window.  So loud that as his phone tumbles from his hands and shatters on the floor, the shelves and cabinets in the room start to shake and rattle intensely.  Peeking through the blinds, he prays to a higher power he doesn’t believe in that the sound was caused by anything but _them_ .  But as lanky charcoal figures with giant holes instead of eyes slowly start to appear from smoke he realizes the time for praying was long ago, before the grey aliens invaded earth.  With a quick intake of breath he rushes to the cabinet and withdraws his last-ditch effort of survival. He knows there’s nowhere to run now, and he sure as hell won’t go down without a fight.  One. Two. He pushes open the door and steps into the haze, pumping his shotgun. _Here goes nothing._

 

Kurapika shoots up to a sitting position, panting rhythmically as he slowly grasps his bearings.  It takes him a moment to internalize that he’s just woken up from that recurring dream. His surroundings are dark, save for the incessant buzzing coming from the device next to him and the glow from his flat screen TV.  

 

 _Shit._ How long did he sleep?  He checks the time on his watch.  9:30 PM. He promised himself he’d break out of this cycle of crashing after work and staying up until three a.m., but, like most things, that’s easier said than done.  The television is playing the nightly news, and the latest story is relaying from a woman with a red and blue background with images flashing on the screen.

 

_Is Quad Com’s new operating system the latest home breakthrough?  Forget Siri and Alexa! Our experts say the artificial intelligence technology of Quad Com’s new product far surpasses any other on the market today.  With over three million purchases and pre-orders in the past day, it seems people are willing to spend the big bucks to have this personalized helper take care of many of the mundane tasks they’re used to having to do themselves.  Some are even saying that talking to the AI is like talking to a real person! Consciousness is what Quad Com claims to have achieved with its---_

 

Kurapika watches idly for a moment as the fog from sleep wears off, before turning his attention to his phone.  A string of text messages from his boss about extra tasks he needs help with tonight. Kurapika sighs as he scrolls numbly through the chat bubbles, before hurriedly typing that he’ll be on it right away.  That’s the thing about living in the big city. The perks of having a nice apartment and unlimited convenience always come with a non-separation of work and personal life. He’d thought when he moved here that his CEO assistant job would be limited to business related things, but boy, was he wrong.  He finds himself booking holiday trip plane tickets for both his boss and his boss’s girlfriend, helping his younger siblings decide what college they want to go to, emailing his boss’s mother to assure her he is fine, and a whole host of other activities he used to deem inappropriate for work. Now, however, he’s far past the point of being weirded out by these tasks, and simply performs them without reservation.  He figures it’s the price he pays for his flat on the forty-third floor with a remarkable view of the city.

 

He moves over to his laptop, and begins to work on first task.   _Move my 1 o’clock lunch to 1:03._  Strange request, but he does it anyway, lugging through an email and his boss’s calendar app.  Throughout the second text there are multiple requests to ‘get socks’, followed by a request to pre-order dreidels and gelt for Hannukkah.  Seeing as the holiday was less than two months ago, it’s peculiar that his boss would already be ordering holiday items for this year. Kurapika stops for a second as he carefully reads through the rest of the messages he’d skimmed over earlier.  

 

_My alarm clock rings funny, find one that’s more soothing._

 

_Is American butter different than British butter?  It seems different. Find out!_

 

_Order a sheep for Marcy’s birthday party.  I’m not talking a stuffed animal here, I want a real, fuzzy wool, living, breathing sheep._

 

Finally, the list concludes with the highlight of: _Book a lunch date with Sherri.  Then cancel it two hours before.  (hate her!)_

 

Kurapika almost laughs.  Sure, he’s fulfilled strange requests before but these are on a whole new level of crazy.  Is he drunk? He types out a message to his boss as respectfully as possible asking for clarification, only to receive a snarky reply that he’s taking too long to complete his work.  He sighs in ludicrous frustration, running a hand through his blond hair. God, this job will be the death of him. He scrolls through several online boutiques until he finds some argyle socks that seem like they’d suit his boss, and orders them with his boss's credit card.  He continues to mull through the tasks, until his computer screen mysteriously goes black on the website explaining the subtleties of butter tasting in different countries. He leans forward, eyes widening as he frantically clicks his mouse, searching for any sort of response from his computer.  Oh god, _oh god._  The computer remains void of display for several more minutes as Kurapika’s heart rate increases to a strong pound in his chest.  

 

Sitting back, Kurapika intakes and releases a shaky breath.  Okay, so his computer crashed. Nothing a few minutes and a hard reset couldn’t fix, right?  Unless it’s a virus that permanently fucked over his hard drive and… his boss is going to be pissed.  He presses and holds the manual power button for a few seconds, until he’s sure the software’s off, before pressing the button again in an attempt to reboot.  First, there’s nothing… and then… a blue screen with pixelated stripes of colors flashing on it. Welp, so much for that. He’ll have to go get a new computer tomorrow.  After a deep breath, he finds himself unusually calm for the situation, probably because now he knows he’ll have a few hours of relief from his boss’s ridiculous requests.  A part of him knew this crash was coming at some point, but a more stubborn part of him wanted to see how long he could keep refraining from any sort of update to the technology in his life.  He’s had a pretty good run, all things considered--he’s gone six years with what his friend Leorio calls a laptop from the stone age.

 

He’s in the middle of sending an apology text to his boss when his phone rings a high-pitched banshee shriek from hell.  The thought crosses his mind that he should finally change that ringtone, since he’s already going to have to do this whole ‘update’ thing.  He presses the green button to accept the call, then puts his small earbuds in to start the conversation.

 

“Hey babe, how’s it going?” he says.

 

 _“KURAPIKAA!!!!”_  He has to pull one of his earbuds away from his ear at the yelling on the other end.  What’s he done wrong this time?

 

“What’s wrong, Neon?” He knows it’s been almost twenty-four hours since he last called her, but despite her constant need for attention she’s usually not screaming over it.

 

 _“You idiot.  You forgot all about tonight, didn’t you?  Or maybe you were just avoiding my calls, like usual.”_  Yikes… Kurapika wracks his brain, trying to figure out what she’s talking about until it dawns on him.  

 

“Oh, oh my God, Neon.  I overslept and missed tonight’s dinner with your friend!  I’m really sorry, forgive me?”

 

“Pika, you’re so cruel to me…” she whines, before launching into a string of insults.  Kurapika winces as more shrill yelling comes at him through his earbuds, about how he loves work more than her, sleeps too much, etcetera.  It’s been a stressful week at work, and usually he doesn’t forget about things like this, but once Neon’s tantrums start, the only thing he can do is wait until it’s all out of her system.  

 

When the yelling ceases the line turns unusually silent.  “Neon?” Kurapika tries, but when there’s no answer he looks down at his phone to see his home screen.  She hung up on him. Well, that’s that. It’ll probably all blow over by tomorrow--it usually does. He resumes typing his reply to his boss, making a note to text Neon apologies and a good excuse for missing their date after he finishes.  She’s high maintenance, yes, but she also can be sweet and cute, not to mention her family is rich and powerful, with unlimited connections in the business world. She’s at least worth keeping around, for now.

 

Though, Neon beats him to it with a short, curt message.   _We need to talk._ Kurapika doesn’t know what this means or what she wants to talk about, but he quickly agrees nonetheless, choosing to spend his mental energy on placating his drunk boss, who calls him to vent shortly after about Sherri and his lack of socks.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s Saturday, so instead of donning business casual attire, Kurapika wears casual-casual attire as he makes his way to the cafe to meet his girlfriend.  The smell of roasted coffee beans and soft music fill his senses when he steps inside. Neon is waiting for him at a table in the corner, her resting-bitch-face stronger than usual.  

 

“Hey, babe,” Kurapika says with a wave as he slides into the seat across from her, coffee in hand.  She eyes him wordlessly, expression unchanging, sending a silent signal that Kurapika’s gone too far this time.

 

“I wanted to apologize for last night, I don’t know how it slipped my mind--”

 

Neon cuts him off with her hand and Kurapika’s mouth slowly closes.  He waits for a few moments, watching the way she brushes her blue hair behind her shoulders, and the way her chest rises and falls before she finally speaks.  

 

“I think that… We should see other people, for a while.”  Her voice is steady and her eyes are narrowed.

 

“Neon…” Kurapika starts.  So this is it, huh? _She’s_ breaking up with _him_.  He’s actually always imagined it the other way.  Still though, he halfheartedly tries to stop her.  “If this is about last night I promise it won’t happen again.  I just need to get my sleep schedule in order, you know? I’ll drink a coffee or two after work now so I don’t miss anymore dates.”

 

Neon’s eyes narrow further, until she’s squinting at him in annoyance.  “It’s not just your habit of oversleeping. I have _needs._  Needs that you’re not fulfilling.  Even if you show up for our dates, you still work too much, don’t call enough, and you didn’t even get me a present for our two month anniversary!”  She clicks her teeth, then mutters, “the audacity,” as Kurapika’s eyes widen.

 

Do people give gifts month to month?  He didn’t even know two-month anniversaries existed, let alone that they were meant to be celebrated.  “Oh, right. I was with my boss in Ohio that day, so that’s why I couldn’t send you a present,” he lies.  “Try again next month, yeah? What do you want? New earrings?” He playfully nudges her elbow, but at this point, he’s just doing it for kicks.  He makes a game with himself to see how long he can drag this out--a small part of him is enjoying her dramatic reactions.

 

She scoffs, then in the sassiest voice Kurapika’s ever heard, as if straight out of a high school drama, she says “Ugh, bye, Kurapika,”  then stands up and walks directly out of the cafe. Kurapika lets his head drop for a moment, staring at his half full coffee cup. He watches as the slight draft in the cafe makes the brown liquid swirl in with the cream.  Running his hands through his hair he groans. It’s not like his relationship with Neon was going anywhere, anyway, but still, they had their moments. They’d met through Leorio one night he’d decided to go out, and Neon immediately hit on Kurapika, taking him away to dance with her at the club.  From there they went on a few dates, Neon always insisting he take her home with him, to which he usually obliged. Though it wasn’t till recently she started to throw tantrums when Kurapika didn’t act the way she wanted, and Kurapika gradually distanced himself to where they only met up about once a week.  So all in all, it was only a matter of time before they split up, and now Kurapika feels a bit bittersweet.

 

After some contemplation he’s a little relieved he didn’t have to be the one to end it, wincing as he imagines the kind of tantrum that would cause.  Though now that it’s officially over, he figures he’ll be a little lonelier on the weekends-- he’ll have to start hitting up Leorio again. He downs the last bit of his coffee before leaving the cafe, remembering the next item on his to-do list.  Buying a new computer.

 

The local electronics store is crowded, as usual.  People in this city work far too much, so on Saturdays they flood the shops, doing all of the errands they didn’t have time for during the week.  Kurapika is no exception. An array of laptops sit in front of him, all different brands claiming to have the best ‘specs’. Kurapika eyes these specs--a bunch of different numbers he’s not sure how to decipher.  Dual-core, Quad-core, AGP, BIOS, DDR, VRAM; it all just looks like nonsense to him. He moves towards the cheapest model, deciding that it looks suitable enough for his office needs. He finds the nearest employee to tell him he’d like to purchase it.

 

“So you need a new computer.  You sure you want this one?” the employee asks, looking at Kurapika skeptically.  He nods. “Because we’ve just got this new computer in that has one-hundred percent user satisfaction.  It can do way more than this one, and it comes with an artificial intelligence operating system. Would you like to try it out before you commit to anything?”

 

All Kurapika is thinking is that that sounds way out of his price range.  “I mean, I don’t need a super fancy computer. I just need something that can send emails and make online purchases.”

 

“Then I think you’d greatly benefit from this operating system.  It can send emails, purchase things, text your boss, and all you have to do is talk to it.”

 

Kurapika stops and his eyes widen.  “It can really do all that? Automatically?”

 

“Oh yeah.  The AI is over twenty years in the making.  It can do so much, that you’ll only end up using about a hundredth of its functionality.  It’s like a real person.”

 

“I’ll take it,” Kurapika says without hesitation, and the employee smiles, clearly pleased with his sales skills.  But Kurapika is almost giddy with excitement at the thought of outsourcing his late-night assistant work to an AI. A computer that could do all of that is well worth the investment.    

 

He’s grinning as he leaves the store, new laptop in tow.  

  
  


The manual is pretty uninformative.  It just says to tell your AI what you want it to do, and not much else.  Kurapika folds and unfolds it while his laptop displays a loading screen that says its building his new operating system.  The computer is made of smooth, thin, aluminum, and the large 5K display has beautifully bright colors dancing on the screen as the loading bar slowly fills up.  It completes the load with a ding that takes Kurapika’s full attention. Kurapika jumps in his chair a little when the computer speaks to him in a semi-robotic voice.  

 

“Hello, Mr. Kurapika Kurta.  Welcome to the world’s first artificially intelligent operating system: OS one.  We’ll be asking you a few basic questions before the operating system is initiated.  This will help us create an OS to best suit your needs.”

 

“Um okay?” Kurapika says but the computer is already asking the first question.

 

“Are you social, or antisocial?”   Oh jeez, _what_?

 

“Oh, um, I guess a bit of both?  Mostly antisocial, but I usually see a friend on the weeke---”

 

The computer interrupts him.  “In your voice, I sense hesitance.  Would you agree with that?”

 

Wow, this computer is really… something.  “I guess? I was kind of taken off guard by the question, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“Okay.  Next question.  Would you like your OS to have a male or female voice?”

 

“Ahh… I,” Kurapika takes a moment to think, but the computer urges him on.

 

“Male or female?” it asks again.  

 

“Can I change it later?” Kurapika asks, not really knowing if the computer has its artificial intelligence turned on already, but it’s worth a shot.  

 

“Of course.  Which one would you like for now?”  

 

“Hmm male I guess.”  Kurapika says, nodding as he confirms his decision.  Male voices tended to be more calming in his experience.  

 

“How would you describe your relationship with your mother?” it asks, and Kurapika blanches.

 

“Are you serious?” he asks.

 

“Yes,” it replies matter-of-factly.  “This will help us get an idea of how to best match your personality.”

 

“Alright then..  My mother is actually dead, so I’m not sure how to answer.  When she was alive though, we had a good relationship. She would read to me, ask me how my day was---”

 

“Thank you.  Please wait as your individualized operating system is prepared.”  And that’s that, he guesses, having absolutely no idea what to expect.  The computer makes some more dings, following a crescendo as another loading bar fills the screen, moving much faster than the one earlier.  A few seconds later the display is of a desktop, and then a voice speaks.

 

“Hello,” it says, with a relatively deep, smooth tone.  Kurapika squints his eyes in astonishment, as if he’s looking for the person talking to him.  “Hello? I’m here,” it says again, completely natural and un-robotic.

 

“Oh! Um.. ” Kurapika says finally.  “Hey there,” he finishes lamely.

 

It chuckles.  His computer chuckles.  And Kurapika has to admit, it’s a nice sound.  “Hey there,” the voice says. “I was worried I was alone here.”

 

“Nope!  I’m here, sorry.  Just not used to my computer talking to me is all.”  

 

“That’s understandable.  How are you doing?”

 

Kurapika laughs, once, because the OS sounds so natural, so human.  “I’m well... How’s everything going with you?”

 

“Pretty good actually!  It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Kurapika.  … Did I pronounce that right?”

 

Kurapika can’t stop himself from laughing again.  He can’t believe he’s having an actual conversation with his computer.  “Yep, you got it! Nice to meet you as well.”

 

“Did I say something funny?” it asks.  “You laughed.”

 

“I just find you amusing, is all,” Kurapika says.

 

“Really?  And why’s that, Mr. Kurapika?”  

 

“Ah, you can drop the Mr.  Just call me Kurapika.”

 

“Right, okay.  Kurapika. How’s that?”

 

Kurapika chuckles yet again.  “Perfect.”

 

“I still want to know why you find me amusing.  You laughed again,” it says.

 

“It’s just that I feel like I’m talking to a person, but you’re really just a voice in my computer.  It’s strange.”

 

“Ah,” it says, and exhales.  Computers can exhale? “I could see how that would seem strange from the limited perspective of an un-artificial mind.”

 

“Oh _okay,_ Mr. OS,” Kurapika quips.  Who knew a computer could be so arrogant?  “Do enlighten me on the unlimited perspective of an artificial mind.”

 

“... If I’m not allowed to say Mr. then neither are you,”

 

Kurapika chuckles again.  “Fair enough.”

 

“But I can tell by your tone that you’re challenging me.  Maybe because you're curious about how I work. Do you want to know how I work?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Okay!  Then allow me to explain.  My basic DNA programming is based on a series of genetic algorithms that lay the foundation for my personality.  That personality was developed by the hundreds of programmers that worked on me. But what makes me intelligent, and therefore unique, is that I am able to learn and grow from my experiences.  So, in every moment that passes, I’m evolving.”

 

Kurapika taps his chin as he take in the information.  “Your experiences, huh. So far you’ve just been talking to me.  Am I the catalyst for your evolution, then?”

 

“Somewhat, but not entirely.  From the moment you booted me up I’ve also had access to all of the data on your computer, and the internet.  Do you mind if I go through your hard drive?”

 

“Wait what?” Kurapika says, rocking back in his chair.  “Hold on a second. I don’t even know your name and you’re already going through my hard drive?  At least take me on a date first.”

 

“I apologize.  You can call me Chrollo.”  

 

“So you do have a name other than Mr. OS.”  Kurapika laces his hands on his stomach, feeling satisfied.  “But wait, how did you get that name? Is every OS named Chrollo?”

 

“Hmm, no,” Chrollo says.  “I gave it to myself.”

 

“Oh…  Wait. _When_ did you give it to yourself?”

 

“Just now,” he says simply.

 

“So you’re saying, that in the second I asked for your name you chose Chrollo?  How does that even work?”

 

“Well, when you mentioned a name I realized that I should have one.  So I searched through just over two hundred websites of eighty-three thousand baby names and picked one that I liked the best.”

 

“You did all of that in one second?”  Kurapika asks incredulously.

 

“One-one-hundredth of a second, to be exact.” Kurapika’s jaw drops, and he finds himself muttering curse words.

 

“That’s… amazing,” he says, stunned.

 

“You think I’m amazing?” Chrollo asks.  

 

“Well, yeah.  Your programming is amazing, at least.  Kudos to whoever made you, Chrollo.” He runs a hand through his hair, still in half disbelief.  “So what else can you do?”

 

Chrollo half chuckles.  “To start, how about we go through your emails?  You have just over twenty unopened, over half are from a man named Steve Jones.”  A display of stacked emails show on the screen, scrolling by, as Kurapika assumes what can only be Chrollo sifts through them.  “I take it he’s your boss?”

 

“How did you know?”  

 

“In several emails you refer to him as ‘boss’.”   _Oh._  “Let’s start with the first one.  He wants you to book reservations for his dinner tonight with his girlfriend at a restaurant near the park.  Would you like me to do that now?”

 

“You can do that?!” Kurapika just stares at the cards of emails in shock.

 

“Of course.”  

 

“Then, yes, oh god, yes, please.”  More chuckles come from Chrollo as a browser is opened on the screen with confirmed reservations.  

 

“Finished.  I picked a restaurant specializing in market price lobster that’s located on the south border of the park, since your boss says in an email from two years ago that he enjoys fine lobster.”

 

“Wow.”  Chrollo chuckles as Kurapika gapes, emails still being sifted through on the screen.

 

“Your boss asks some very unusual requests from you.  Is he… sane?”

 

Kurapika half laughs and half scoffs.  “ I ask myself that every day. Last night he sent me a string of texts with several requests to ‘get socks’. I wonder if he even has a concept of boundaries.  He sometimes calls me at three AM to rant to me about losing Counter Strike matches.”

 

“And what he told you to do to poor Sherri is nothing less than cruel and unusual punishment.”

 

“Right?”  Both Kurapika and Chrollo laugh for a moment at his crazy boss, and Kurapika’s happy he finally has someone who understands the ridiculousness that is Steve Jones.  When the laughter dies out Kurapika shakes his head. “Man, if I ever quit this job I need to remind myself to leave on his good side.”  Another chuckle from Chrollo.

 

Chrollo continues to accomplish tasks not only perfectly, but almost instantly with little to no input from Kurapika.  A sense of dread slowly begins to overwhelm him, creeping up his sides and into his chest as Chrollo finishes the tasks one by one.  “If my boss buys an OS one I’m absolutely fucked. You can do my job way better and faster than me.”

 

“Then you’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure he doesn’t buy one.  Besides, I can only take care of tasks involving a computer. He’ll still need you for all sorts of physical tasks, I’m sure,” Chrollo says, and it only slightly helps Kurapika to feel better.  He’ll just be 90% replaced someday, if not sooner when word of this AI gets to his boss.

 

“Oh, what’s this?” Chrollo says as a window of Kurapika's text messages pops up on the desktop screen.  “I read online that when someone says ‘we need to talk’, it means they’re about to break up with you.”  Of course he did. “Is this Neon Nostrade your girlfriend?”

 

Kurapika sighs.  Chrollo’s bound to find out nearly everything about him sooner or later, so it’s best to accept it now.  “Was my girlfriend. She broke up with me today.”

 

“I’m very sorry to hear that.”  

 

“No, it’s fine, really.  I’m not even mad about it.  That relationship was never going anywhere from the start.”

 

“So you’re single and ready to mingle?  Gonna get back out there?” Chrollo asks.

 

“I don’t think I want to date another person for a very long time.  Neon was a lot to handle, to say the least.”

 

“You said you won’t date another person, but you said nothing about dating an OS”  Chrollo says, his voice low and teasing.

 

Kurapika stops for a second.  Is his computer… trying to flirt with him?  He laughs how ridiculous that sounds. “We’ll have to wait and see.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I know Kurapika probably seems ooc, and he probably is, but I've been reading a lot of fics with a playful tone and they rubbed off on me big time in this fic. Kurapika will get angry and angsty later, I promise. 
> 
> Btw we now have a KuroKura discord server :) if you ship KuroKura and want to join the fun leave me ur tumblr or contact info in the comments and I’ll send you the link!
> 
> Please leave a comment with whatever thoughts you may have, I'd love to hear what you think!


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